


Turn Around, Clear Eyes (or: The Emily Au)

by cloveraphrodite



Series: Unfinished wips posted just because [1]
Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types, Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan
Genre: Fanfiction, Other, Pure, Raw - Freeform, This isn't finished, Uncut, dont let the word count deceive you, duel point of view, i killed an animal blease forgive me, i wrote this for a friend!, its just, percy falls into tartarus au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-12
Updated: 2019-01-12
Packaged: 2019-10-09 00:46:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17396906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cloveraphrodite/pseuds/cloveraphrodite
Summary: A classic with a twist: Percy Jackson was just 12 years old, he really shouldn't have been trusted with a quest... Much less blamed for something he didn't do. When a turn of events happened, he threw his life down a hole to save his friends. Quite literally. Fates separated, follow Percy and Annabeth as they live in a world that should never have happened. Because no man, nor mortal, should be forced to fight the gods' wars in Tartarus.





	Turn Around, Clear Eyes (or: The Emily Au)

**Author's Note:**

> The next 15k words are not editted, if grammatical, spelling, and/or plot mistakes appear... ignore them. This isn't even a full rough draft.  
> I wrote this for a friend named Emily. Hi Em! This started as a dream, and has taken months to work on. Enjoy, and be warned: more content is not promised. But I plan on finishing this. If you're reading this note, I have not finished it. But hopefully I will.

Percy never felt the underworld before, but he never thought it would be… lively.

Half-ghosts milled through the strangely smooth rock floor, heading towards gates styled like ancient greece met Atlanta Airport (in which he has seen pictures from other kids at school).

Black marble laced with golden cracks surrounded then, reaching up so high that Percy couldn’t see their ends. A dark blueish gold haze sat like a border at the jagged stones that funnelled souls to judgement, stagnantly watching to make sure souls didn’t try to cross.

The dead were dressed in multi-colour togas. Some orange, some green, some red, some yellow, many were blue and purple and metallic. Laughter echoed from children huddled in the fastest line.

With a deep twist in Percy’s gut, he realised the most colourful were going to Asphodel. He remembered that souls who didn’t do enough in life to be good or bad went there. He bit back the feeling in his gut that, if he failed the mission, he would go there.

“Come on Percy.” Grover shivered next to him, clutching his panpipes like they were his life source. Annabeth looked nervous herself, holding her knife in her hand hard enough her knuckles were white.

Percy took a deep breath, shouldering Ares’ bookbag to be more secure on his shoulder, and they plunged into the underworld through the Asphodel line.

By some miracle, none of the skeletons on patrol stopped them. Or maybe it wasn’t a miracle, maybe Hades knew they were coming.

Percy’s head spun with doubt. One of his favourite gods to study was Hades. He had been more fair than most of the olympians, always more mild-tempered and offered fair chances. He wouldn’t believe he stole the bolt, not when he had an underworld brimming with trillions of souls. Something didn’t feel right.

They walked, and the colours got greyer and greyer. Children stopped laughing, chatters turning into a plain white noise. Percy’s breaths grew heavier, like something was trying to tug his soul out of his lungs.

Asphodel was like a rock concert without a stage, without music, without any energy. It dragged on and on, lined with pearly white trees stripped bare of bark and leaves, black soil cracked at the roots. The only other features in the floor were from Annabeth’s, Grover’s, and Percy’s footsteps.

He started to slow down, breathing heavier. Something was pulling him down. Pretty soon, his friends lost him in the pool of souls.

Percy sat down for a minute, dust plumeing up from the motion. He pulled the bookbag off his back, opening it with intention to find a water bottle.

His heart nearly stopped dead in his chest. In the bag, all supplies had been replaced. Staring right back at him was a jagged cylinder that glowed a pale gold, capped with a seamless stinger-like cone.

“Oh… oh gods…” Percy whispered, his mind clicking all puzzle pieces together. His mouth dried up, his eyes wide. He immediately pulled the zipper shut and pressed his hands together, the tips of his middle fingers pressing at the top bridge of his nose.

His mind took a moment to collect, then he took a shaky breath in. 

Annabeth’s footsteps came into earshot, then she bust through the souls.

“Percy, oh thank gods.” She gasped for breath. Percy snapped up to look at her. “Oh gods, are you praying?”

“No.” He muttered.

“... I don’t think any gods could help us, anyways.” Annabeth stretched her hand, offering it to Percy. He stiffened, then took it. She reached for the bag, but Percy snatched it up before she could.

“Percy-”

“We need to catch up with Grover.” Percy stated with a chill to his voice. “He’s fast, even with shoes on.”

Annabeth looked at him with bewilderment as he re-shouldered the bag on his back, this time less secure. Percy shook his head, then started jogging to the location Annabeth seemed to have come from.

Soon, they caught up with Grover at the edge of the blackened soil. To their left was a massive cave with a red hue emitting from the inside. To their right was a shining city made of silver and gold, confetti fluttering in the distance. Ahead of them loomed a black and bronze castle, regal and oozing with the essence of power that drawed Percy to it.

“The gates are open.” Annabeth noted, pointing at the gap in the thick black walls, leading to a path lined with purple and silver plants. “He knows we’re here.”

“That can’t be good.” Grover’s voice was weak. Percy took a deep breath. 

“We have to see him.”

Annabeth nodded. Grover gulped loudly, and took a shaky step forward.

The shoes at his feet activated without command. He bleated in shock before falling to his back, being dragged across the ground. Black soot-like dust stirred into the air, blocking their sight.

Percy jumped into action, sprinting after his friend. Annabeth slipped the shield off her back, dashing after him into the thick black cloud. They followed only the voice of Grover, Annabeth’s shouts of ‘take the shoes off!’ nearly drowning out their only way of knowing their friend was safe.

Something close to a voice was chanting something, something Percy couldn’t make out. It was a language, a tongue far more ancient than the gods.

Then, in a chilling raspy-cracked voice, he heard laughter from his dreams.

Percy ran right into Grover, who managed to get the shoes off. He flew through the air, out of the blackness, towards a red-glowing pit. 

He fell to the ground, ten feet from the ledge.

Annabeth broke through the dust with Grover.

“Percy, we need to get out of here!” Annabeth helped him to his feet. He coughed a little, unfortunately recognising the pain from a broken rib. He panicked slightly when Annabeth pulled the bag off his arms.

Out of the dust, a blinding white object zipped their way. It hit the bag, tying around a strap and tugged towards the pit.

Percy didn’t have time to think anything. He turned and sprinted after it, leaping into the pit without hesitation.

“PERCY!” Grover’s shout shook the cave as Percy’s hand grabbed the book bag strap. He twisted his body violently as he thrusted the bag as high up as he could, watching it arc and disappear over the ledge. 

He sailed down, hearing Annabeth scream for him. His eyes watered when the events caught up in his head. This was a pit, a pit that lead down for nine days, or so he was told. His hands patted his pocket, his heart sinking when he felt all three blue pearls the Nereid gave him. 

He bowed his head so his chin touched his chest, closed his eyes, and prayed to the first god that came to mind.

“Hades, please forgive my friends. They were wrongly led to blame you, but it wasn’t you who took the bolt. Help them get back out, the bolt is in the bag Ares gave us. It was his fault, at least somewhat.”

He listened to the air whistle around him.

“And… one more thing. Please, let my mom go, but protect her from my stepfather. I don’t want her to get hurt. Please.”

He didn’t expect a reply back. He kept his eyes closed, tears flying up in the air, left behind as he descended to Tartarus below.

* * *

 

Annabeth collapsed when she reached the outside of the cave’s mouth, Grover soon after her.

“I don’t get it.” Annabeth’s voice cracked. Grover squeaked.

“The bag… the bag’s glowing.” 

Annabeth blinked, pushing herself up into a seal-like position, looking at the bag that rolled away from them. From the slightly opened zipper, a pale glow dusting the floor. 

A figure stopped behind it, picking it up. Annabeth looked up to see a man with a sad expression on his face. She noticed he was covered in vitiligo, patches of pale white stuck to his dark brown, nearly black skin. He looked like he was a king, fair king. With a breath, Annabeth realised he was Hades.

“It’s time you two got somewhere safe.” His voice bathed over Annabeth like a warm wave. She stood up, shaking.

“Percy-”

“He’s dead.” Hades’ voice had a sadness to it. “His last words were a prayer to me. He died a hero.”

Annabeth heard Grover stop choking back tears. Her own cheeks flooded with her own tears. She barely knew Percy long, but she couldn’t help but feel helpless. 

“He knew the bolt was in the bag?” She whispered. Hades put his hand on her shoulder.

“He knew who took it. He asked me to help you.”

Grover joined the other side of Annabeth. She felt herself pulled forward, then they were on the beach, looking out at the dying daylight. 

“Ares…”

Hades looked out on the city.

“I can not help you fight him. He possesses my helm, a fight against the god who owns it would be disastrous.” Hades looked at the two. “I can stop his destruction of LA, but you must fight him. Then, I can take you both to Olympus to… bear the bad news.”

He flickered away into a 3D shadow, dropping into a puddle and evaporating.

Annabeth looked at Grover in his eyes.

“For Percy.” She whispered. Something hot started to lick at her heels, the feeling of Ares being close. Grover’s eyes looked on something behind her, and his terror faded into mild anger.

“For Percy.”

* * *

  
  


As Hades promised, he took them to Olympus.

Two gods Annabeth recognised were present - Poseidon on his throne of fishernets, and Zeus on a solid throne of platinum. They took one glance at her and Grover, then noticed Hades.

“Why are you here, brother.” Poseidon’s voice steeled up, his grip on his trident visibly tightened.

“I am here because I promised your son I would help his friends.”

Annabeth held Grover’s hand, watching the two gods on the thrones exchange looks.

“Where is Perseus?” Zeus bellowed after a shared silence.

“Died protecting your bolt.” Hades said with a monotone, his fingers unlacing from the bag he elected to carry for them. The bag flew to Zeus’ hands, melting away to reveal a jagged cylinder. It grew until it looked like a real bolt frozen in pale gold.

“My son… You let him die.”

“Not by choice.” Hades countered. Annabeth watched the gods, noticing her mother’s throne was empty. “He stopped the bolt from going into Tartarus, something was interfering with their quest.”

“It’s starting.” Annabeth thought out loud.

The gods all looked at her, and her mouth clamped shut.

“Girl, talk.”

“Do not talk to her like that, Zeus.” Hades warned. The king god looked shocked at Hades’ comment, so shocked that he stayed silent.

Annabeth took a moment.

“The prophecy, the great prophecy about Olympus’ fate.” Annabeth let go of Grover’s hand, stepping forward. “It’s starting.”

“Then Percy is not dead.” Poseidon glared at Hades. The underworld god shook his head.

“He hit the Styx. Even if he was ready for it, he had no blessing. His soul is gone, the most we can do now his honour his death… privately, and keep silence about it.”

“I will not silence the death of him!” Poseidon stabbed down with the blunt end of his trident, the sound waving through the room. 

“Someone helped Ares get the bolt and my helm,” Hades looked at the two gods, his crown glowing at it’s mention. “If we speak of this, they could flee before we figure out who.”

Poseidon looked like he wanted to yell, but Zeus interrupted his chance.

“Very well, then.” He sighed. 

“But there aren’t any other children of the big three.” Annabeth poundered.

Zeus tensed, and Annabeth noticed.

“... nevermind.”

“I… uh, might have a son.” Zeus grumbled. “About a year younger than Percy.”

“Of course you do.” Poseidon pursed his lips. 

Hades raised his eyebrow. “He’s not exactly-”

“I am aware, brother, but if this really is starting…” Zeus trailed off, looking at Annabeth. “You have a long road ahead of you, Child of Athena. Be ready.”

With that, he flickered out in a blast of lightning. Poseidon mumbled ‘drama queen’ under his breath, and left in a spray of mist.

Hades shrunk down to a normal human height. 

“Don’t speak of anything that happened in his room.” He warned. “Not a breath. If anyone asks where Percy is, tell them he’s still in the Underworld. Do not say he is dead.”

Grover and Annabeth nodded. Hades offered a grim smile.

“If you need me for help again, I will help you. A payment to this pain.”

With that, he was gone in a blast of cold air. Annabeth looked at Grover, who looked at his pipes.

“We got to do this for him.” She put her hand on the back of his. “Everything after this is for him.”

Grover hummed. “But my seeker-”

“You’ll get it.” Annabeth promised. “I don’t know how, but you will.”

* * *

  
  


Annabeth met Sally, who offered for her to stay with her. So she was close to camp, to help in case Luke, who stepped up and admitted to her that he stole the bolt, came back. She took it, and they didn’t talk about how they both knew the bedroom at the end of the hallway was for a boy long gone. 

Hades told her, and took Gabe. Annabeth helped her move to a small apartment, with the small set of riches the god gave to Sally. She didn’t enroll in school. 

Sometimes, she wondered what life would be like if Percy had lived. Would he be proud of her for talking to her dad? What school would he have gone to? 

Gods, she wished he was alive.

 

* * *

 

Percy wish he died when he hit rock bottom.

Instead he almost choked to death from a stupid, yet life saving, decision. 

For some reason, most likely impulsive thinking from his ADHD, he ate one of the pearls the nereid gave him.

Stupid, yes, but she did tell him to crush them… in his mind, the pearls would bring him out of Tartarus.

No such luck. Instead, his body blew over with a bright blue washing glow and his back hit the glassy floor of Tartarus, cracks spidering around him.

He laid there for a moment, breathing sharply. Then he sat up, and noticed there was no blood.

“... Thanks, I guess.” He grumbled. The air around him was pugnet, almost gag worthy.  _ But _ , he thought,  _ at least it’s not as bad as Smelly Gabe. _

Where he was, it was dark. The red glow was soured by the blackness, no noise other than Percy’s breaths.

He stood up, shakily walking forward. He held his pen in his hands, still unsure if he really could fight anything after a fall like that.

What felt like an eternity later, he saw a light in the distance. He almost stopped here he was, an urge to turn and run filling his body. At least in the darkness, he couldn’t see what it was like here. If something came to kill him, he could die in the comfort of darkness. 

At the same time, he couldn’t just stop. He travelled across the country to see his mom again. To stop right now and give up would be all that work wasted. It might sound like a cheesy motivator, but Percy wanted a fighting chance to see him mom. After all, monsters can get out of Tartarus… why not him?

He walked until he hit ledge, looking down at a river made of pure fire, hundreds of feet below. 

For miles, all he could see was hell. Literally. It was curved, like the top of a large dome, covered in sleek black glass and balls of yellow something. Four rivers weaved their way towards a pool-like lake in a corner, monsters of all kinds occasionally getting too close and suffering from thee waters. He took note of which ones seemed to be: The far left one burned anything that touched the water, and it was filled with toys. That one was the Styx. The middle left seemed to cause monsters to turn on each other and grow more aggressive. He nicknamed that ‘The Fight-Me River’. The one he stood in front of was obviously Fire River. The middle right caused monsters to curl up into a ball, he could hear sobbing from here, so he named that one the ‘Lake Of The Tears Of My Enemies’. The last lake, the far right, was the only other river he could remember. That was the Lethe, or the Bye Bye Memory Stream.

He took a deep breath. The air already felt like nothing was out of the ordinary, like this was what real air was supposed to be like.

“Okay. You’ll get out of this.” Percy whispered to himself.

For some reason, a very valid reason, he didn’t believe himself. But he started down the cliff anyways.

* * *

  
  


Annabeth drowned herself in piles of books about the ocean. Everything, from navigating using only the stars to the studies of currents, marine life ranging from tiny fish to whales, and everything she could get her hands on. It was tough, having a hyperfixation this big with dyslexia. 

It helped in the long run. Shortly after the summer came, Thalia’s tree got poisoned. Annabeth had a dream from her best friend, Grover, was in trouble. Clarisse got the quest, and Annabeth snuck out to try to help her. She ran into the one cyclops she would ever get along with, another son of Poseidon named Tyson. She was scared to lose him.

The quest was for the golden fleece. She knew Clarisse would never admit it, but it was obvious she was grateful for her help.

Annabeth was painfully aware that this quest would have been in Percy’s domain. Ship sailing, wide open ocean? That’s Poseidon’s thing.

Some time passed while Grover stayed at camp. Just long enough to see Thalia be born out of the tree, her hair donning a streak of gold by her bangs. Annabeth stayed silent, too choked up on emotions to even look at her old best friend.

Annabeth has a feeling she shouldn’t talk about the son Zeus mentioned. Grover left for a gather assignment, still sad he couldn’t be a seeker.

Then, Bianca and Nico came along.

Annabeth stood in the foyer of one of the darkest places she’s been since the Underworld. Thalia was by her side as they stepped foot into the blackness.

“Wow, it’s so dark here.”

“Not the darkest I’ve seen.” Annabeth muttered under her breath. Thalia looked over at her, her face barely visible. Her gold streak seemed to glow a little.

“... What’s the underworld like?”

Annabeth paused, her hand on her knife hilt by her hip, ready incase of an ambush.

“I’ve only been through Asphodel.”

“With that Poseidon kid, right?” Thalia gestured her hands at nothing in particular, as she is the type to talk with her hands. 

Annabeth stiffened. “Yes.”

“Yeah, I hear stories about him sometimes.” Thalia looked curious, her blue eyes trained on Annabeth. “What happened to him?”

Annabeth looked at Thalia blankly.

“He stayed behind.”

“But why?”

Annabeth prayed for someone, something, to interrupt this conversation. Nothing did.

“He just did.”

“Did he die?”

Annabeth looked at Thalia, mildly annoyed at this.

“I’m not answering that.”

“So it’s a yes.”

“Thalia, stop talking about this.”

“Why?”

“Because the gods don’t want us to.” She half hissed. Thalia looked shocked, then frowned.

“Fine.”

They trudged into the charcoal-like darkness, into a hallway towards music, nearly running into a gasping Grover.

Annabeth caught the satyr before he fell on his face. Thalia jumped, her hand on her spear.

“Gods, you came out of nowhere.” She grumbled. Grover looked at her with a sheepish look.

“I got your text message, I didn’t want you to run into-” He paused, then grabbed them both by their hands, pulling them against the foyer between the men’s and women’s restrooms.

“Wh-” Annabeth was shushed by Grover.

They watched as a tall man stalked down the hall, barely visible in the darkness. He didn’t seem to notice them, but Annabeth noticed he slowed down a bit when he got into view.

A minute passed, his footsteps finally fading into nothing.

“The principal.” Grover had a hint of sadness to his voice. “He’s strict, and he might be a monster.”

“Why do you think that?” Thalia’s voice was low and gritty.

“He keeps blocking me from the two demigods I found.” He pulled them out of small half-room, guiding them down the hallway. 

“Do you know their parents?” Annabeth tiptoed next to him, looking at his general direction without being able to see him.

“No.” He said after a second. “But they’re powerful.”

“How old?”

“Fourteen and ten.” He said. “They’re siblings, she’s older than him.”

Annabeth thought for a moment.

“Today’s the last day of winter break,” she reasoned, “If the principal-”

“Dr. Thorne… sorry, continue.” Grover bleated. 

“Dr. Thorne could be with Luke, we need to get them out asap.” She could see Grover now, as they approach the gym. She recalled that there was a school dance. She didn’t know what one looked like, and she had a feeling she didn’t want to know.

“We should split up, try to get to them.” Thalia reasoned, stopping at the door of the gym. “What do they look like?”

Grover fumbled with his fingers.

“Tanned white skin, black hair, they both paint their nails black. She’s wearing a green hat, he’s wearing a brown aviator-style jacket.”

Annabeth nodded. “This shouldn’t be hard.”

She shouldn’t have said that lie. 

The moment she stepped foot in the room, she was overwhelmed with the feeling of bass rumbling through the room. Music blared loudly, sharply bouncing off the walls and soaking into the streamers. Spotlights of purple, red, and yellow danced around on the ceiling, projecting down onto the floor. Annabeth’s hands shook as someone bumped into her, shouting an apology lost into the music of Britney Spears’ Toxic.

People wore clothes pulled straight from the 80’s. Freaky patterned shirts and wide ankle pants scattered around as teenagers tried to sing along to the sound.

Thalia was visibly displeased at this, her face distorted with disgust. Annabeth had already lost sight of Grover.

She stood there, in the middle of the dance floor.

For a moment, the sounds around her dulled. Then, a hand slipped into hers.

“You should be looking for them.”

She looked up at a fuzzy face. She blinked once, then twice. Right next to her was Percy, looking straight at her with viridian eyes. 

“I…”

“We can’t just stand here, that’s awkward.” He wrinkled his nose. Annabeth nodded, and they started awkwardly dancing.

“How are you here?”

“I’m not.” He sounded sad. “You know I’m not.”

“Did I make you up?”

“Probably,” He admitted, his hand grasping hers tighter. “Consider me an imaginary friend.”

“That’s sad.” 

“No it’s not.” Percy hummed. “You solve all your problems with images in your head. How is this any different?”

“You’re not an equation.”

“I’m a tool to your success tonight.” He said. “The demigods aren’t here, where would you hide two very powerful demigods if you were a monster?”

Annabeth glanced around the room, her eyes training on a small exit door by the bleachers.

“Bingo.”

“Go get them, Wise Girl.”

His hand slipped from hers. She looked back at him, to only see he was gone. She was standing alone on the dance floor.

She turned on her heels and sprinted for the door.

* * *

  
  


Percy started to realise he hated monsters more when they were pus balls.

He figured he spent half his time away just stabbing them, but as it was turning out… it was every waking moment.

The good news, he had tigers.

Well… more like they had him. 

The Cynthemarian Tigers were a species native only to Tartarus. He wondered if anyone on the mortal or godly plane knew about them. He figured they didn’t, as far as he knew, they stayed here for life.

Just like him.

He sat down on a ledge, covered in runny yellow liquids. 

Percy was too tired for all this. He just wanted real monsters to fit him, he didn’t want to play Doctor Pimple Popper.

He closed his eyes for a moment, a memory gracing his boredom.

_ He was younger, he didn’t know how much younger though. Monsters still didn’t know he was there, that was his element of surprise. _

_ His right arm was already bleeding, but he couldn’t feel the pain.  _

_ Something was gathering the attention of the monster he was following. A young drakon, maybe a few years old, that really needed to be killed. _

_ He noticed something bronze on the ground, maybe a shield of a hero that got lost here. There were a lot of shields, he noticed, and not a lot of swords. _

_ The closer they got, the less it looked like a shield and the more it looked like something that was alive. _

_ Percy went through a mental list of monsters that were bronze. Nothing good came up. _

_ The drakon hissed with delight. Percy noticed soft, round ears, and paws. Carefully, as to not alert the drakon, he tiptoed as close as he could. _

_ A baby animal, seemed to be a feline-type cub, was curled up next to a rock. Their head was tucked under a paw, like it was trying to protect themself. _

_ He didn’t know how long he’s been in hell for, but he softened. The cub shouldn’t die, not when he could probably raise them to help him stop the monsters from getting up to the mortal world. _

_ Or maybe, just maybe, the cub would grow up to help him out of this place. _

_ His foot hit a glass pebble, and the drakon stopped dead in its tracks. _

_ Percy cursed under his breath, pulling Riptide off the back of his ear and unsheathing it from it’s pen form. _

_ The drakon looked at him and arched it’s back. He stood, ready, then noticed it was going to lunge at the cub. _

_ “Oh, no you fucking don’t.” Percy dashed at the drakon, barreling into it while it was mid jump. _

_ His arm seared with pain at the suddenness of his movements, and the scales from the drakon’s tail sliced into his side. He twisted, bringing his sword down on it’s wear chest plate. _

_ Puff, the drakon exploded into bright yellow powder, showering Percy and his wounds. The pain sharpened, and he collapsed from it. _

_ ‘Note to self: Monster powder is bad for wounds.’ _

_ His world blurred, and something pale gold came into his vision. He thought, just for a moment, he was going to die. _

_ Then he woke up in a den with a cub curled up against his abdomen. He was laying on his left side, half curled around the cub. _

_ He sat up, slowly, and something raspily meowed at him. _

_ Percy paused, then turned to look at the largest tiger he’d ever seen staring at him. _

_ “Uh… hi?” _

_ The tiger blinked slowly at him, then laid their head down on their paws, watching him. _

_ He looked down at the cub, which was still asleep, then back at the tiger. _

_ “... You’re the parent?” _

_ The tiger huffed, brown eyes trained on him. He took a deep breath, taking that as a yes. _

_ Another tiger, most likely larger than either in the room, walked in. Grey eyes locked on Percy’s green ones, and he felt like he knew what the tiger was thinking. _

_ “Thanks for saving me.” Percy mumbled. _

Something soft nuzzled his arm, and he opened his eyes.

“Hey, Goldie.”

Sky blue eyes inspected Percy. Goldie was the tiger he saved, who he helped raise. She was like a best friend, which made sense. His last best friend was a satyr, why wouldn’t his next one be a tiger?

Her coat was gold and silver, just like everyone else’s, but there was still dark bronze fur on her muzzle and her ears. She was already as tall as he was, which wasn’t much. Percy’s major disappointment was he didn’t seem to be getting any taller, which should be happening. 

So there he was, a five foot tall kid with a five foot tall tiger trying to groom him.

“No, stop it, don’t lick that.” Percy scrambled back. Goldie, which wasn’t her real name (he can’t say it, he doesn’t actually know it), playfully bounced back.

“This stuff is bad for you.” He got a gritty meow in response. Percy pursed his lips. “Whatever, let’s go back to the den, then.”

 

* * *

 

Annabeth almost regretted it all.

She sprinted to the door, sliding across the slightly slippery floor. The door was locked, so she pulled out her knife and stabbed the knob.

The door swung in, and she plunged into darkness without a second thought.

She probably should have thought against that, because as she was sprinting down the hall, she thought about how she left Thalia and Grover behind with no warning.

Her feet hit crunchy soil, flying through an open door and into the dark snowy forest.  Her breath fogged across her vision, and she nearly ran into a tree.

Not long, she found the kids. She couldn’t recall any names, Grover failed to tell them to her, but the girl was holding herself in front of her brother, holding a broken door knob.

“I’m here to help.” Annabeth held up her hands. The girl was shaking, she obviously didn’t plan to be in the snow.

“That’s what he said to us, but he lied.”

“If you’re talking about Dr. Thorne,” Annabeth took a slow step forward. “I know. He’s a monster.”

“I don’t know what he is,” she had a warning tone laced in her words, “but I also don’t know what you are.”

The boy peaked from behind her back, his eyes trained on Annabeth’s every move. They seemed to seamlessly blend into the shadows.

Annabeth held her knife up, between her thumb and her index finger. “I’m like you.”

“How so?” The girl pressed, holding her doorknob a little further out. 

Annabeth didn’t get a chance to answer that, because something moved just off to the side of her vision, causing her to flip her knife into a battle-ready position.

“Ms. Chase, what a splendid surprise.” A tall man with a clean-shaven appearance purred. Annabeth looked at him, her chest tightening from stress. “I was expecting the other girl.”

“You mean Thalia,” Annabeth corrected him, scanning his outfit. A starched black suit with a white bow tie, making him look like he was ready for a top 1% party. His shoes sparkled like black onyx in the snow, barely visible in the light of the crescent moon.

“Alas, you should do.” He clicked his tongue, inspecting her stance. “Luke said you fight hard.”

Annabeth’s teeth gritted together at his name, and her hand tightened on her knife a little more.

“You work for him.”

“Any smart monster would.” His eyes seemed to flicker into something more animal. “So would any wise demigod.”

“No wise demigod would turn against their parents.”

Bianca shuffled closer to Annabeth, holding her brother behind her. Smart girl.

“No wise person would stay on the losing side.” Dr. Thorne’s tail flickered.

Wait… tail?

Annabeth’s hand twitched, and the Mist around Throne started to melt. She watched him as he grew in size to an adult manticore.

“There is no losing side, just a side with Athena and a side doomed to failure.”

A wild grin formed on his face.

“Yes, my dear, those sides can always be the same.”

With that said, he pounced.

A shower of silver arrows sailed through the air, and Annabeth lept into action, her immediate thought jumped to grabbing the two children by their hands and taking them to the building. 

They got halfway across the gap when Thalia and Grover exploded from the open door, nearly hurtling headfirst into her.

“Annabeth-” Thalia started with an exclamation.

“Hunters.” Was all Annabeth could say before she half-collapsed. Her vision tunneling when she finally noticed that, when she was rushing to get the boy and girl out of the clearing, Dr. Thorne had lived up to his name. A thorn as wide around as her wrist had embedded itself halfway into her left thigh. 

She was bleeding, and fairly sure it was filled with venom. Grover bleated in shock, catching her.

“Oh gods-”

“I’m fine.” Annabeth stumbled back to her feet, shaking. The girl grabbed her arm, helping her get steady. 

The rest felt like a daydream. The manticore summoned mortal backup, helicopters that shot massive rounds of bullets in attempts to disperse the hunters. Dr. Thorne tried to lunge, to grab one of the demigods, but a hunter threw him off the cliff to save them. Unfortunately, she went down with him.

Artemis separated Annabeth from the rest of them due to her injury. She later learned she asked Bianca to join the hunt, but the girl denied.

She remembered Thalia’s first encounter with the hunters, how they warned her love for Luke might end in flames. Annabeth found it ironic now, because they were in the middle of winter and Thalia’s flames were one of anger towards Luke. But Annabeth didn’t doubt that Thalia would be hostile to the hunters.

She wished she wasn’t so alone in the infirmary.

“You act like you can ever be alone.”

Annabeth looked at Percy, who was sat on top of the counter, next to a basket of medicine.

“You’re not much company.”

“Ouch.” 

Annabeth wrinkled her nose at him. “You’re not even real.”

“I was, at one point.”

“This is just me coping.” 

Percy shrugged. “I’ve been dead for a year and a half, if that makes a difference.”

“You died protecting a bolt that belonged to a man that accused you of stealing it.”

“That decision saved the world, Wise Girl.”

Annabeth stayed silent. He played with an apple, in a hacky sack way. She watched him, until Thalia came into the room.

Percy stopped, caught the apple, and watched Thalia sit down next to Annabeth on a stool.

“You okay?” Thalia asked. Annabeth hummed softly.

“Not particularly, I hate not being able to move.”

“I feel ya.” She played with her bracelet, a silver chain that was capable of turning into Athena’s shield Aegis. “We can’t leave until morning.”

“That’ll take us ages to get back to camp.”

“Apparently she called her brother, the sun.” Thalia shrugged. “Artemis offered for me and Bianca to join the hunt.”

“You said no.”

“I found out you’ve been planning to join.”

Annabeth tensed. Thalia looked up at her.

“I was thinking about it.”

“Why.” Her voice steeled up, her blue eyes glazing over to protect her emotions. “Is it because I came back?”

“What, no.”

“Then why?”

“Because…” Annabeth’s throat ran dry.

“Is it because of that Percy kid.”

Percy’s image flickered, and he scowled.

“You can’t talk about that.” He warned.

“Thalia, I said we can’t talk about this.” Annabeth said.

“So it is, isn’t it?”

“No, it isn't.” Annabeth snapped. “I was looking to join because I could fall off the radar and have a fighting chance of bringing Luke down. The gods aren’t listening to the fact that your Grandfather is rising, but Artemis listened.”

Thalia stayed quiet, her lips crunched and a dry pale white. Anger was washed across her face, the silent kind where you scream in your head and your whole body shakes.

Annabeth took a deep breath.

“Any news on who their parents could be?”

“No.” Thalia stated sharply. “But hopefully we find out.”

She got up and left. Annabeth looked at Percy.

“Don’t overthink this.” He said plainly. “Zeus is one for dramatics, so is his daughter.”

With a blink of her eyes, he was gone.

* * *

  
  


“Gods, death sounds great right now.” Wasn’t what Percy’s last words should be, but it was looking damn close. 

Percy’s first titan was Iapetus. And it was by Bye Bye Memory Stream. 

Why was he at the Lethe? He didn’t really want to talk about it, but he was majorly wishing to just jump in. The only thing really stopping him was that he would lose his memories of what life was like before. Well, what he had left. They were fading away. He couldn’t remember purple, or what a soft green patch of grass felt like. Everything here was designed to be painful - broken glass beaches, water made to destroy or burn you in some way, the air was a constant musk, everytime you tired to walk uphill it was like carrying a chain and ball around your ankles. There were no butterflies, no sunsets, no starry night skies. 

Percy missed when his mom got him up at five in the morning, when he went to public school. He missed Montauk, the bustling streets of Manhattan, mixtapes and audio edits. He was left here with his thoughts, fighting monsters, desperately avoiding anything that would kill him.

“Gods,” he whispered out loud. “Death sounds great right now.”

And with a cackle from the Fates, he could literally feel them laughing at him, his wish was granted.

“A mortal in Tartarus?” 

Percy turned to see a man standing over twelve feet tall, cloaked in red soaked sheets styled like a long tunic, looking like how he imagined Ares  _ should  _ look like. A big, buff man that looked like he bathed in liquid sun tan.

Percy reached for Riptide, untucking it from behind his ear. He took a step back, away from the man. He radiated an energy Percy didn’t recognise. Something strong, ancient, almost godlike but… different.

“How interesting my first victim is so close to me.”

Percy unsheathed Riptide, and the man laughed.

“You wish to fight me? I am Iapetus, The Piercer. You stand no chance.”

Percy almost didn’t see Iapetus lunge at him, he barely had time to scramble out of the way. His tattered shoes scrapping the largest chunks of glass. Percy forced himself to stop, despite the pain from the glass slicing through his paper thin soles.

He stabbed at Iapetus, failing to land a hit. Iapetus swung his spear, Percy dodged, and the spear swung again.

It hit Percy square in the gut, and he went flying backwards. Luckily, he landed on smooth glass, just inches away from the broken edges of the river bank.

He got up, and shakily lunged into battle. He swung his sword, deflecting the spear everytime it came close.

Percy was getting exhausted. His sword grew slower and slower.

_ Shing! _

Percy yelped as the spear came for his head, and in the spilt moment where metal met metal, Riptide was twisted out of his hand and sailed into the Lethe.

His heart dropped.

“Now it’s time for your death, Perseus.”

Percy closed his eyes and raised his arms over his head, crossed together, in hopes to protect himself.

His world dulled, his ears rang louder and louder, and something in his gut twisted.

And the Lethe behind him exploded.

Icy cold water hit his back and engulfed him whole, violent pain shaking his body. Over the roar of rushing water, he barely heard Iapetus yell out in surprise.

Then, the water slushed to the ground and pour itself back into it’s carved path. He stood there, shaking, before he lowered his arms and opened his eyes.

All around him was a circle of clean glass, like the Lethe has swallowed up the broken glass and left a smooth pit behind. He was in the middle of that pit. His sword lay at his feet, shimmering like it had been newly polished. What was left of his shoes was basically gone, washed in the violent waters, but he stood unmoving in his spot.

He saw a body, a few hundred feet away from him, lying limp. The fabric had been washed pure white, and he could see white hair on their head.

Iapetus didn’t move. Percy stood there, shaking, trying to wrap his head around what just happened. He shouldn’t know who he was, or were he was… but he did. 

He reached down for his sword, his hair fluttering down in his face from behind his ear like a ghost.

Percy’s heart stopped when he realised his hair was white.

“What the fuck…”

He grabbed his hair and pulled it in front of his face. His hair was a brilliant white, almost shiny.

“What the actual fuck is this bullshit.”

Iapetus groaned in pain, and Percy scattered to grab Riptide. His body didn’t stop shaking, and was vaguely aware that hypothermia was setting in. He tiptoed backward sluggishly slow, but yelped out in pain when a thin shard of glass sliced into his heel.

White sheets rustled to life and Iapetus looked up at Percy, confusion riddled on his face. Percy stopped shivering, reaching for his sword but realising it was still sitting at the bottom of the smooth pit. 

“You’re hurt?”

Iapetus got up to his feet faster than anything Percy’s ever seen, and the next thing he knew he was being picked up by a thing that was three times his height. The pain in his foot sharpened, then a hand covered his eyes.

The pain burned away, and his body started to glow with warmth. For a moment, his mind went blank, his body stiff, then he was gently put back down.

“I…”

“Do I know you?” 

Percy took a moment to think this over.

“No. But you tried to kill me.”

“Why?”

“Because you wanted to.”

“I wouldn’t kill you.” He promised. Percy looked up at him.

“That’s a bold thing to say.”

“But it’s true. Why would I kill someone I just met? You haven’t tried to kill me when i helped you, I wouldn’t kill you.”

Percy looked down at his bare feet.

“Do you know my name?”

“You said it was Iapetus.” 

“I don’t like it.” He grumbled. 

Percy shrugged. “Bob could be your name, I guess.”

Iapetus stayed silent for a moment.

“I like that one better. Bob it is. And who are you?”

Percy looked up at ‘Bob.’ 

“Percy.”

“Percy, that’s a good name for a friend.”

Percy’s mouth tugged at a smile. 

“Thanks.”

For the first time in a long time, Percy felt like the world around him didn’t hurt as much.

* * *

  
  


Annabeth didn’t like this quest at all.

_ Five shall go west to the goddess in chains, _

_ One shall be lost in the land without rain,  _

_ The bane of Olympus shows the trail, _

_ Campers and Hunters combined prevail, _

_ The Titan's curse must one withstand,  _

_ And one shall fall by a parent's hand. _

She was scared. She wouldn’t admit that to Thalia, or to Bianca, or even Grover. She figured Zoë already knew something was up, but the eldest hunter kept quiet of any suspicion.

Everything was going terribly wrong, because of zombies. They were everywhere. 

They wouldn’t die. Annabeth was lucky to escape from them on the train, but now they were deserted in the middle of a desert,  with no clue where they were, with only the clothes on their back, a few weapons, and a magical lion pelt to protect them.

Annabeth walked without much of an aim, keeping the moon to her right side as she climbed through the crackled hills. 

Her mind started to wander back to her meeting with Aphrodite, not even a day ago. 

“ _ In another timeline, _ ” The goddess had tsked, “ _ I guess you and Percy would have made a great couple. _ ”

Her mental construction of Percy hadn’t appeared to her since that time, like she was so taken back by the image that he just deleted himself from her mind.

She dragged her feet against the ground, thinking about how this quest would be like if he really was there. Would they have been in a different position? Would she be on the quest with him? If Percy went on this quest, but they already had five people, who was his ‘replacement’.

Her foot hit a metal cylinder, and it clattered away from her. She snapped out of her thoughts, and looked up to see shimmering hills spread out before her. In the half-moon’s light, it made it look like a choppy ocean, stuck in time forever.

Her heart tensed up at the simile. She turned to look for her friends, seeing them just a few hundred feet behind her. Not long after, they trudged through the metal wasteland, silently picking their way through until Bianca made a move she shouldn’t have.

“Don’t touch that.” Zoë snapped, her voice soft but sharp at the same time. Bianca jumped, something shiny clattering at her feet. 

“What?!”

“This is the wasteland of the gods.” The only hunter in the group hissed. “Everything here is cursed or a mistake.”

“Like we are.” Thalia grumbled, which earned her a glare from Zoë. 

Bianca looked around.

“This is a waste. We could do so much with these metals.”

Annabeth glanced at a metal tree covered in jewels, then at a half crushed shield.

“This would help…” she admitted. Zoë shook her head.

“Thou would believe this, but it is not that simple.” 

Annabeth fell silent.

Grover’s stomach rumbled a little, breaking part of the thick silence. Thalia started laughing, Bianca joined in nearly immediately. Grover offered a sheepish smile.

“Silly satyr.” Zoë grumbled. Grover quickly apologised, and then they started walking again.

It wasn’t long before they saw a light in the night, an old paved road riddled with potholes and cracks. A street lamp washed the ground in a flickering glow, offering an eerie yet welcoming appearance.

A loud crash rang through the night and Annabeth jumped, her fur jacket morphing into the sleek bullet-proof gold lion pelt. Her hand flew to the hilt of her knife, her entire body tense. Annabeth heard Zoë put her bow into a ready position, Bianca drawing her short sword. Thalia’s spear sparked to life on her back, offering some local visibility.

“My.. my bad.” Grover yelped, dropping a large metal stick. “I don’t like fake feet.”

“Fake feet?” Annabeth relaxed a little, easing her grip on her knife. 

Grover pointed at the large lump in front of him. “It’s a foot.”

The group of girls moved over. Zoë tapped the metal with her bow, scowling.

“I do not like this.”

“Thank you for stating your opinion for the world, mouth.” Thalia rolled her eyes. Zoë’s eyes blazed with annoyance in the greyish-dark, but she didn’t say another word to Thalia.

Annabeth looked up. In the moonlight, she could see the vague shape of what looked like a big toe. 

“That’s freaky.”

Bianca touched the smooth metal with her hand. “It’s hollow, what would the gods need with a hollow foot?”

“Who cares what they needed it for,” Thalia tapped her hand on her thigh with mild impatience. “They threw it here, for one reason or another. We don’t want to find out why they did it, we need to get out of here as soon as possible.”

Grover nodded violently, agreeing with Thalia. Annabeth noticed a small scratch of the letter H near Bianca’s hand, and she got a flashback. Back to the waterpark, where they got Ares his shield in exchange for a bag and a ride to Vegas.

The same bag that ultimately killed a friend.

Grover put his hand oh her shoulder, and they shared the same look of pain.

“Getting out of here ASAP would be ideal.” Annabeth admitted. Zoë slung her bow over her shoulder and motioned for them to follow her. 

The air whispered softly around them as they picked a path around the feet, towards the paved road. Annabeth held her breath, hoping to the gods (specifically Hephaestus) that the giant foot wasn’t a trap.

Her foot hit the crumbling pavement of the road, her stomach fluttered with fright that something bad would happen.

And something bad did happen. There was a moment of pure stillness, then the sound equivalent of ten jets taking off pierced through the air. Annabeth dropped like a stone, covering her ears with her hands. The lion pelt flopped over her head, muffling the noise dramatically. She felt the ground shake violently, her teeth clattering together. 

The sound died down, Annabeth shakily got to her feet and turned to see what happened.

The others had scattered, chunks of bronze stuck in the pavement and ground around her.  Like they had been picked up and thrown at them. Her lion pelt sparkled in the light, slightly blinding her.

She looked up to see a tall Green Giant wannabe, dusty bronze metalwork rising several stories in the air. Red lights glowed where the eyes should be. Half of the chest area was crumbles and dented, with smudged writing that spelled out either ‘Please Wash Me’ or ‘Please Watch Me’. Annabeth figured either could be either. 

It was an animatron, she should have known better from the last incident. They must have activated some trigger. She didn’t feel any wires, so maybe it was sensors…

“Annabeth, look out!” Bianca called out. Annabeth blinked out of a trance she didn’t know she was in to find a fist coming down to crush her. She yelped and dashed to her left, towards the moon.

_ FBOOM! _

The pavement shattered as the fist met it, a ripple in the ground sent Annabeth flying. She just barely had enough time to twist in the air so the lion skin would protect her from the crash. She meteored into the junkyard, metal spraying out as she was half buried. 

A hand pulled her up as a silver arrow sliced through the night, aimed for the animatron’s eye.

Bianca heaved softly from the effort, Annabeth ushering them to the nearest shelter - a half burned chariot.

“Are you okay?” Bianca whispered. “You almost died.”

Annabeth nodded, glancing over the edge at the giant. With a loud crash, a crack of lightning struck metal and the giant stumbled. A tune played in the air, plants swallowing metal whole as they struggled to grow over the sound of thunder. A silver streak dashed along the ground, like a smaller Flash, fleeing away last moment before another bolt hit.

“It’s not going to work,” A voice to Annabeth’s right said. She glanced over to see Percy watching her from atop a fridge. Even though he was obviously over a hundred feet away, she could hear him clearly.

She stayed silent.

“It’s a Faraday, the most the lightning could do is shake the dust off. You need to turn it off manually.”

“Annabeth, what are we going to do?” Bianca moved to block her view of Percy, even though he wasn’t real. Annabeth swallowed hard, then turned to look at the giant.

Something glowing blue caught her eye, on the back of the left foot. A door labelled in something she couldn’t read through the neon.

“That door… what if it lead to a control room?” 

Bianca caught eye of what Annabeth was talking about.

“Maybe, if it’s not some magic.”

“It’s not, it’s something Hephaestus made. Maybe a Talos replica, or prototype of something bigger.” Annabeth’s throat dried up in the desert air. “But he wouldn’t make the off switch easy to get to.”

“It’s in his head, isn’t it?”

Annabeth didn’t know if she could answer that.

“I’ll do it.” Bianca’s voice wavered a little. Annabeth snapped back to look at her.

“What?! No.”

“It’s my fault he’s awake.” She admitted. “I took something I shouldn’t have.”

“... what?”

Annabeth watched as Bianca pulled out her silk black scarf, unfolding it to reveal a small statue of a man in black cloaks, pale skin, and a black crown.

“Mythomagic?” Annabeth whispered. Bianca nodded. 

“It’s the only one Nico doesn’t have… I couldn’t just leave it here. He needs it.  I left him alone at camp for this, to save a goddess who wanted me to join a hunt that would force me and Nico apart… I felt like I needed to get him something, to repay him.”

“You can’t do it, it’ll kill you.”

“I…” Bianca’s voice cracked, “I know. But… I need this statue to get to him. I have to. You have to save Artemis and get her to Olympus. Don’t wait for the unclaimed girl. Just run.”

Bianca folded the statue in the scarf and stuffed it in Annabeth’s hand. “And get this to my brother. Tell him I love him.”

She got up and sprinted across the metal, towards the thunder. Talos.05 smashed another fist on the ground, sending the rest of the quest members flying back towards the crumbled road. Bianca yelled something, waving her hands to the side to tell them to flee. Grover happily took that sign, beelining down the road away from trouble. 

Annabeth coughed softly, then sprinted to the road too. Her feet crushed thin sheets of metal, her breaths turning heavy. She heard a door slam, but she didn’t dare turn back to look. She kept sprinting, her thighs screaming as loudly as her lungs when she hit the graveled pavement. Thalia’s eyes went wide and she mouthed ‘where is Bianca’. Annabeth shook her head and grabbed her friend’s hand. Together, they ran after Grover, towards the darkness.

The sound of screeching metal filled the night once more when they hit the second street lamp, several hundred feet away. Annabeth pivoted on the heels of her feet, twisting violently to look past her. Her hair flailed out like a broken flower, slapping her face when it came back around. 

The giant machine got still, standing completely straight. Red eyes flickered for a moment before dying down, and the metal fell backwards.

“No!” Annabeth yelled out. “Bianca!”

She didn’t have time to cover her ears or eyes as she watched the metal crumble to the ground, sending chunks sailing into the air like dangerous confetti. Thalia covered her mouth, her body sparking.

The first street lamp flickered out, and then there was only the ringing of Annabeth’s ears, silence to the ADHD mind.

“She was…” Zoë’s voice was the softest thing Annabeth had ever heard. “She was a hero. May her soul pass through the underworld with ease.”

Grover’s shaky voice called out behind them.

“I found a truck… we need… we need to go.”

“One shall be lost in the land without rain.” Thalia quoted. “I didn’t think they meant…”

The group of four shared a silence, before Annabeth looked down at the scarf in her hands.

“We’ll give her a proper funeral later. We need to move on, we don’t have much time.”

She turned and motioned for Grover to show her to the car. Thalia and Zoë were left in the floodlights of the ill maintenanced road, only for a moment, while the darkness swallowed up Annabeth’s tears.

 

* * *

 

The more titans he met, the more he wanted to fall into the Fire River.

Iapetus - sorry, Bob - disappeared shortly after he took Percy to a temple. The walls and logo felt familiar to Percy, but he had no clue what or who it was for. All he knew was it belonged to a god who frequently got food sacrifices. 

He didn’t dare touch the food, scared the pearl he ate might ‘deactivate’ if he tried (the pearl that was keeping him alive. Sure, he could probably use the other two, but he didn’t want to test his luck), so he settled on snatching up the clothes, shoes, and armour that was hanging on the walls. 

There were no mirrors, no weapons other than a tiny dagger that might have been used for animal sacrifices. He suspected, based on the clay pots and style of the clothes (chiton and togas), that this temple was lost since the ancient times. Of course it would have been, it didn’t have any video games or books to occupy his time. 

As time went on, he noticed more and more monster activity. Monsters he’s never seen or heard of before, crawling from the lower layers of hell. Girls with flame hair, spirits that possess nearly everything they touch, a lady of snakes, drakons the size of his old schools, titans that were bigger and badder than Bob ever was.

He was young, armed only with a bronze sword that doubled as a pen he used to hold his hair up and a silver knife who’s blade measured from the tip of his middle finger to the edge of his wrist. His shoes were sandals, albeit well made for something sitting in the stew air of hell, and his only pieces of clothing were all like bed sheets folded and stitched up till there was only a hole left for his head. All he needed was a shield and he’d look like a classic greek hero with Cruella Deville inspired hair. 

Not to sound so down, Percy knew it could be worse. He could have drowned in the Lethe, or had his memories taken from him. He didn’t know if his memories stayed because of the pearl, his Poseidon ‘water resistant’ ability, or some other outside source, but he wasn’t going to test it again. So he avoided the river as much as he could.

His second titan was a man that glowed like New Years Eve in Time Square. His third Titan was female, and she didn’t seem interested in fighting him. She was more interested in turning him into a ‘shiny new figurine’, which absolutely terrified him. He would rather burn alive than be turned into something for a titan to play dolls with.

After that, it became a blur. He refought titans he already defeated, often times with monsters trying to kill him on the side. He lost track of where his scars were coming from, his arm littered with little brown and white cross hatched marks. 

He stopped counting because it took too much time. He just estimated a number in his head, then shrugged it off like it was some tabloid.

He didn’t bother caring until the monsters started caring.

Percy stepped lightly over a chunk of broken glass. Rushing water graced his ears, but left a hollow pit in his stomach. His hair was pinned into a tight but sloppy bun, held together by Riptide’s pen form and a simple piece of twine. His chiton was torn at the edges, stitched up so much that at this point it was mostly patchwork, but otherwise stayed in tact. His sandals were falling apart at the toes, the leather torn and cracked. He didn’t mind, at least it wasn’t cardboard. 

Something shifted in the red hue, and Percy immediately crouched down, pulling Riptide out of his hair and into the ‘ready to pop the lid’ position he was all too accustomed too. 

Voices smoothed over his ears.

“... what about the girl?” A dry and cracked toad-like voice spook, one he wasn’t familiar with.

“We will deal with her once he is dead.” Kronos’ voice chilled Percy to the bone. 

“Wouldn’t it be easier to catch the boy?” The cracked voice questioned.

Kronos stayed silent for a moment. “He is a challenge to kill, much less convince to join us.” He remained calm, which disturbed Percy more than it should. 

“The girl is a challenge, too, my lord.”

“Perhaps, but she doesn’t have solid skills. She is still very weak.”

“And the boy isn’t?”

“We need someone weak, he would not do well.” Kronos started to sound agitated. 

“My lord, if we can just get an eidolon in his head-”

“Did I mutter my words, monster?” Kronos’ voice got loud. The toad croaked in shock.

“No-no sir-”

“I told you specifically that the boy must die. He is too skilled, he would never join us. His father’s got a protection on him, we can’t break it.”

“But-”

“ **Do not talk back.** ” 

Percy blinked in shock, noticing the dramatic change in language.

The shadow split in two. 

“I’m- I apologise si-”

“Do not speak.” The titan hissed. “Follow my orders, effective immediately. He shouldn’t be too hard to find… right, Perseus?”

Percy stiffened, his eyes wide. He mouthed ‘oh shit’ before standing up, nearly stumbling backwards onto his butt.

The world around him turned into gel, and his head spun. His entire body felt like he was buried in cement, and his gut twisted in fright.

The two shadows seemed to step into the light. One, a tall figure, was pure black cracked with gold lines. A metal reaper’s hook-staff, or a golden scythe, was being held by a clawed hand. The other figure was indescribable, a slimy green that was in a constant state of fluid change. 

“Any last words?” The titan mocked, glowing brighter. “Your death wouldn’t even matter. Another demigod will take your place in the prophecy.”

Percy tried to move, but his whole body was stuck in place, magically gripped by time. Frozen in time. That was quite a way to die, wasn’t it?

The shifting object pulled out a dagger from it’s skin, the sound similar to pulling your finger out of a bowl of slime really quickly. It was so gross that Percy would puke, if he had something to puke up. The hand was a solid human hand for a moment, before it dropped the knife and croaked out a sound of terror.

Behind Percy’s back, a familiar growl broke through the air just before the dagger hit the glass floor. The gold and black form of kronos flickered, before the curved line across his face seemed to frown.

“What is thi-”

Goldie pounced forward and sank her teeth into the Titan’s arm. The spell on Percy weakened slightly, just enough to close his eyes. Then it strengthened back up, and he was stuck with his arms spread out into a T-like pose, his body tilted at a fifteen degree angle.

He heard a yelp of pain, then the sound of metal hitting metal. The smell of immortal blood filled the air, masking the stewed-gym smell of Tartarus. Percy’s stomach twisted as he fell to the ground, on his back.

He rolled onto his stomach and scrambled to get up, pulling Riptide to it’s sword form. His stomach dropped when he looked up just in time to see the Titan collapse, his scythe covered in red blood.

But it wasn’t his blood.

“Goldie,” Percy threw himself into a run, sliding next to his friend, the tiger who was laying at the edge of the bank of the cluttered Styx. 

Blue eyes glazed over his face as he curled his legs under him and held her face.

“Hey, it’s going to be okay, I can….” He didn’t look up from her face, but his words faltered in his throat. What was he thinking. He couldn’t stop the bleeding of something this bad. Even if he could, he would risk her never walking again.

But the pearls…

For a moment, he noticed the look in her eyes. They both were there for a moment, in silence, Percy on the verge of tears.

And then it was just Percy.

“This isn’t fair.” He choked out from a sob, whispering. “Why you… Why not me. It should have been me.”

He cradled her head in his arms, feeling her soft metallic fur. It still have bronze laced here and there. She wasn’t old at all. She was supposed to be pack leader.

_ He didn’t remember falling asleep. But the scene hadn’t changed too much. He was still crying at the banks of the Styx, holding his last best friend in his arms. _

_ “Percy.” A voice familiar, yet foreign, called softly. He looked up, gently wiping tears from his face. _

_ He came face to face with the blue eyes of Goldie. She was translucent, like a ghost. _

_ “Don’t cry, young kitten.” She didn’t open her maw, but somehow she was talking to him. _

_ Not weird at all.  No, seriously, he’s experienced weirder. This didn’t phase him at all, except for the pain building in his chest and his knuckles. _

_ “You’re dead.” _

_ “Everyone with a soul dies, Kitten,” She shifted, standing up from the position she had on the floor. “It’s an honour to have died for you.” _

_ “But it’s not fair.” _

_ “Life isn’t fair, it is a challenge we must face.” She stretched a little. “A challenge my ancestors had, when we walked your world. Man and Tiger were in arms, very rarely did we die to save one. Man wore our fur, when we did sacrifice ourselves. My dear kitten, you are a man worth fighting for. You might not belong here, it might be hell to you, but you are the piece that breaks the puzzle. As per tradition, I wish you to wear my fur.” _

_ “But I don’t know how…” Percy’s voice cracked, and he looked down. _

_ “Carry me to the Styx. She will hold true to Cynthemarian traditions for you. Carry me to her waters, and she will make me a pelt for you.” _

_ “You’ll be gone forever.” _

_ Goldie seemed so smile. “No one is ever truly gone, Percy. I’ll still keep you safe at night.” _

Just like that, he woke up, tears crusted over in the inner corner of his eyes. He took a shaky breath in, standing up and thought for a moment. He took a step back, away from her, holding his hand out to the river.

The water responded, with resistance, and swallowed the bank. Goldie washed into the polluted water, disappearing under a toy princess castle.

He waited, standing there in the open, shiving. Minutes, or hours later, when his legs finally felt like stone, a gold and silver pelt flowed against the current and settled on the broken bank. Percy scrambled to grab it, holding it close to his face.

He didn’t remember walking away from the Styx, but when his mind cleared up again, he looked at his hands.

“This place never lets people go.” His words were as broken as the glass around him as he paced over the land bridge of another river. “Why do I keep hoping I can get out of here.”

Nothing answered him.

“I can’t keep lying to myself. I’m never leaving. That’s some fantasy as stupid as happy endings. The Greeks were tragic, no hero leads a good life. We all die in a painful way.” He pulled the pelt around his shoulders and crossed it on his chest.

“I’m not leaving. I’m stuck here. It’s time I stop being so stupid and just accept it.”

Percy vowed to himself he would change. No more lying. This was war. 

He had to act like it.

* * *

  
  


Annabeth didn’t like being alone often, but she kicked everyone out of the cab of the rusty old Chevy, leaving her alone behind the steering wheel while they sat out in the bed of the trunk.

“You can’t isolate yourself.”

“Watch me, Mr. Make-believe.” Annabeth grumbled, one hand on the steering wheel.

“You can’t be mad because she died.”

“Yes I can.” 

Percy hesitated, but a thought echoed across her head.

‘Like you were mad at my death?’

“You’re not real anymore. You died in the Styx.”

“That doesn’t matter. I still was alive, I was still real.”

“Shut up, I’m not going to talk to you anymore.”

His green eyes looked at her, baby-seal wide and sad, then he wasn’t there anymore.

She drove mostly in silence, occasionally hearing Thalia or Grover through the closed windows. She drove until she couldn’t drive anymore, til the road reached a dead end and the gas was gone.

She climbed out of the seat, taking a deep breath in. They must have driven several miles, because they hit a cliff, a view of a river.

“We could take a boat?” Grover held his panpipes in his hand, looking about ready to eat them. “Maybe it leads to a town, or somewhere to eat?”

Zoë had a distasteful look on her face. “Perhaps we should, we haven’t much of an option.”

“We could climb down?” Grover continued. Thalia looked ghostly white.

“Or maybe we could… not?”

“It’s not that hard.”

“Grover,” Annabeth reminded, “you’re a satyr. You can climb things we can’t climb.”

“Oh… right.”

Zoë shrugged. “Grover could climb down, and I can shoot an arrow to thee and we can all climb down on a rope.”

Thalia looked like she wanted to bail out immediately, but Annabeth decided they didn’t have any other choice.

“We can do that.”

And they did. It took maybe thirty minutes to get them all down, give or take, then they walked until they reached a canoe rental shack. Without saying a word, they took two best-intact canoes they could find, and they set them in the water.

“A naiad wants to take us upstream.” Zoë announced out of the blue. “She said something strange has been happening.” 

Annabeth looked up from the note she was writing, a simple IOU to the shack. 

“Did she say what?”

“She won’t tell me.”

Annabeth shrugged. “I guess we can check it out?”

The hunter’s expression didn’t change from neutral, but she nodded and ushered Grover into the canoe with Thalia. Annabeth eventually joined Zoë on the other canoe, and then they were sailing upstream. 

No one said a thing, watching the water rage past them, the fine mist covering their clothes. She thought about Percy again, and how this was supposed to be his thing.

She shoved it out of her head, laying down under the seats and closing her eyes.

When she opened them again, they were slowing down. Zoë was shaking her awake.

“You would want to see this.”

They hit rocks, Annabeth crawling out to face a wall of sleek light grey. She looked up to see the Hoover Dam looking down at her.

“Oh wow…”

They didn’t marvel for too long, much to her dismay. The climb to the top was terrible, and by the time they made it, she wanted to collapse.

“Oh my gods, I’m so hungry.” Grover held his stomach. “Is there a snack bar here?”

“A dam snack bar?” Zoë looked slightly hopeful. Thalia snorted into her hand.

“With dam fries?”

“And dam soda cans?” Grover added. 

Annabeth cracked a smile.  “Maybe they have dam t-shirts we can get too.”

“With dam souvenirs?” Thalia laughed.

Zoë looked horrified for a minute, then pinched the bridge of her nose.

“Idiots. I’m on a quest with idiots.”

Annabeth, Grover, and Thalia burst into a fit of giggles, hysterical from hunger.

They migrated down the path, in search of food, when a tour caught Annabeth’s ADHD. The guide looked like someone she knew, and she found herself at the front of the group with no memory of leaving her friends.

She was in an elevator, next to the guide, listening to her list facts about the turbines.

“There are no other exits here, but you can always find another way out.” Her voice was chipper at the beginning, but turned regal at the end. Annabeth blinked, shocked, looking up at grey eyes looking down at her.

“There is always an exit, if you know how to find it.”

The elevator opened and the tour group of middle aged adults spewed out, forcing Annabeth to walk forward or risk getting trampled. She couldn’t find the grey eyed lady, but she was fairly sure that lady was her mother giving her advice. But now she was stuck inside of a dam, with nothing but a dagger and an aching stomach. She looked like a ragdoll that had been dragged through the mud, never cleaned off ever, her hair a tangled mess on her head. She kept her hand on the hilt of her knife.

Everything seemed quiet as she edged through the crowd and into the clear, looking over her shoulder.

_ AchOO! _

Annabeth flinched violently, thrusting her knife out at the sound. 

A girl with a tissue to her nose glared at Annabeth behind red hair in her face.

“Do you always stab people who sneeze?”

Annabeth panicked.

“No.”

She pulled the tissue away from her face, revealing a thick layer of freckles across her cheeks and nose. 

“So then why’d you do it?”

Annabeth looked at the girl, then down at her knife, and then back up at the girl.

“You can see my knife?”

“Duh, what kind of question is that? What else would it be, a rubber chicken?” the redhead sounded agitated. She couldn’t be any older than Annabeth was, 14 or 15 years old.

Annabeth figured a rubber chicken would have been worse than a knife, so she just shrugged.

The red head made an ‘hmph’ sound, crossing her arms. “How did you even get that down here? Didn’t security notice you?”

Annabeth went to answer, then the girl stiffened.

“Get behind me.”

“Ex. Excuse me?

She reached out, grabbing Annabeth’s arm, and spun so she was forced behind the mess of red hair.

Annabeth didn’t hear the chattering of bone-dry teeth until she hit the bathroom door and fell in.

“Oh my god, you let a kid in here with a gun?!” The red head was muffled but loud. “You know, for security guards, you suck at your job… She went that way, don’t just stand there!”

There was a moment of silence, before the girl opened the bathroom door, pale and wide eyed. 

Annabeth got to her feet.

“Thank you…”

“Rachel,” She whispered. “Rachel Elizabeth Dare…. Those… were skeletons?”

Annabeth nodded.

“They want to kill you?”

Annabeth nodded again.

“Who are you?”

Under normal circumstances, Annabeth wouldn’t answer. But the look in Rachel’s eyes. It showed she knew. She wanted a name to show this was real.

“Annabeth Cha-”

Something hurtled into her side, throwing her to the ground and knocking the breath right out of Annabeth.

A green floppy hat hit the floor and Annabeth recognised the small moan.

“... Bianca?!”

Rachel looked between the girls. Bianca scrambled to her feet.

“You’re not dead?!” Annabeth gasped.

Bianca looked at her arms, then behind Annabeth.

“Zombie!”

Annabeth looked over her shoulder to see, indeed, a zombie grappling to her.

She looked at Rachel in the eyes.

“We weren’t here. Ever. Okay?”

She nodded, her red hair bouncing.

“Goodbye Annabeth Chay. I’ll see you one day.”

Annabeth didn’t have time to correct Rachel before Bianca took her hand and dragged her away, breaking into a sprint.

“How are you alive?!”

Bianca didn’t answer until they were forced to skid to a stop. She clapped her hands over Annabeth’s.

“Like this.”

The world darkened around them, and they dropped on top of Grover’s enchilada.

“Ah man-”

“RUN!” Bianca got up and bolted off the table, grabbing someone’s food. “FOOD FIGHT.”

“Is that Bianca?!” Thalia exclaimed.

Then the food court broke into chaos. 

* * *

  
  


Annabeth had a lot to think about on the ride home.

Bianca’s powers, Zoë’s death, seeing her dad come to her aid in the battlefield, rejecting Artemis’ request.

It was late when they got back, and all of them were tired, but they had one more thing they had to do.

The deer gently landed on the ground, shaking their heads. The sound of jingle bells filled the night. Annabeth slid off the silver furred doe, yawning as she started to the mortal side entrance. Everyone followed in suit, stifling their yawns poorly behind the backs of their hands,

When they walked into the throne room, 14 sets of eyes stared down at them.

Hestia waved them to her hearth, offering blankets and making sure they were comfortable while artemis finished telling her tale.

Then it was Annabeth’s turn. She spoke as loudly as she could, almost keeping with a rhythm, from when Sally dropped them off to when they walked in. If she left out a detail, either Grover or Thalia added it in. Bianca stayed silent, shaking softly.

“Zoë rests in the stars now. Where she belongs.” The goddess looked at Thalia with an almost hopeful look. “Maybe someone very important to her could take her place in the hunt?”

Thalia’s cheeks turned red. “M-me?”

Artemis nodded. “Only if you want to.”

Thalia thought for a minute.

“Yes, please. I want to join the hunt.”

Annabeth blacked out for a moment, her head spinning, but she was brought back into focus by a bright flash of silver.

Thalia got up off her knees, dressed like Zoë had been before she died. Her tiara was glittering on her forehead.

“Why did you join?”

Thalia shrugged at Annabeth.

“Because one child of the big three had to survive.”

The room grew cold.

“Thalia-” Annabeth warned.

“You know he’s dead. Annabeth, you know-”

“Thalia this isn’t the place-”

Thalia seemed to forget where they were for a moment.

“Why would the gods hide a child’s death like that? Annabeth, get your head out of the gutter, Hades-”

“Oh my god, SHE SAID THIS ISN’T THE PLACE.” Bianca’s voice echoed through the room and the shadows erupted at her voice.

Everything fell deadly quiet, and she took a shaky step back, covering her mouth.

Zeus looked down on them, shock riddled his features.

Then he looked up, at the god sitting on the other side of the fire.

“She’s… yours?”

Annabeth stiffened, and turned to face Hades.

His face was held poker, but his knuckles were turning ashy on the top of his cane.

“Yes.”

Bianca looked shook to the core, slowly dropping her hands to her side.

“You… broke the oath.”

“No,” Hades’ voice was plain to Zeus’ response. “Bianca and her brother Nico are from the 1910s. I merely brought them to the Lotus and kept them there for… safety. But the prophecy is starting.”

Poseidon’s face changed in an instant, from calm to stormy.

“You brought your children from a casino to replace Thalia-”

“To honour Perseus.”

Thalia’s interest peaked.

Zeus stayed silent, though his face read a message similar to ‘of course you had to say that.’

Hera was the one to speak up.

“Silence. Word can no reach out of theses walls.” She straightened her lilac robes, a comforting scent drifts past Annabeth. It smelled like Sally’s cookies, the sweetness mixed with the seasalt she never fails to add. Her stomach growled at her brain to stop breathing. 

Thalia’s interest burned behind her pressed lips, eyes electric with a desire for knowledge. Annabeth once had that light. She guessed, maybe, that maybe she still had it. But it was most definitely not independent from her dead friend.

Bianca pulled Annabeth aside, when they got back to camp.

“The statue?” 

Bianca’s tired face light up in the first lights of dawn.

“He loved it, thank you.”

“So…. Hades…”

Bianca shrugged. “Nico and I might not have a cabin, but I guess this explains how I survived.”

Annabeth twirled her hair, nodding.

“A dangerous path lays ahead. You’re picking up the torch from me, this is your fate now.”

Bianca took a dry swallow.

“About your friend… Perseus.”

Annabeth tensed.

“He preferred Percy.”

Bianca hesitated. Annabeth suspected that she would have been shot down.

“Y… yes, about Percy… Something doesn’t feel right.”

Annabeth was so exhausted that she could have swore she heard hopefulness in Bianca’s voice.

“What do you mean by that?”

“I… uh…. I really don’t, uh, know.” She fumbled with her hands nervously. “Maybe it’s because I don’t know how to interact with the dead, but he… doesn’t feel dead?”

“Your father said he fell into the Styx. Percy’s completely gone.”

Bianca didn’t look sure in Annabeth’s words.

“He feels… like he’s somewhere. He’s not completely gone, he’s still here… maybe not completely, but he’s not burned away.”

Annabeth looked eyes on a figure in the distance.

Sitting on the bright glittering fleece, tossing an apple into the air, sat her brain’s copy of Percy Jackson. They locked eyes, and then he was gone.

 

* * *

 

A lot changed in a year and a half. Nico and Bianca both grew up, and as they grew so did their powers. Bianca’s was darkness, shadows, she could create a pocket of black in the middle of solar noon. Nico was death, death, death. It started with small bugs, then mice, slowly evolving to humans. Neither child had a controlled grip on souls (Nico suffered greatly from this), but they were learning.

Arguably the strongest duo at camp. And possibly, in the future, the strongest due to ever live.

Annabeth’s war plans were nearly perfect, Except one tiny detail.

“No.”

Annabeth looked at her mother’s tired face.

“Please.”

“I refuse.”

“You know this has to happen.”

Athena sighed, putting down her menu. The dream was almost lazy, a cafe in a town she’d never heard of. Everything was calm. Normal.

“Who even gave you this idea?”

“I made it myself. I’ve calculated the risks-”

“But did you?” Athena raised a sleek black eyebrow. “Did you take into consideration the mental effect this has? You could inflate your flaw.”

Annabeth flinched. She didn’t think of that.

“I have Grover. And a common goal.”

“Once you do this, it cannot be undone.”

Annabeth nodded.

“I know.”

Athena sighed.

“You remind me of myself,” She stirred her tea. “Very well, if you wish, you have my blessing to do so.”

Then the dream faded.

She woke up on the edge of her seat, a pair of brown eyes trained on her.

“So?”

Annabeth stayed quiet for a minute, looking around. Then she looked into the eyes of the boy nervously twisting his skull ring.

“Let’s do this.”

* * *

 

“We won the war.” Annabeth remembered that.

She didn’t remember much else.

Her nails bled through their beds, bruised from the climb he had forced on herself. A locket in her hand, with a blazing red owl hinged inside, ruby eyes glaring yet blank. The gold finish offered her nothing but a cold feeling. 

Hair tied up haphazardly in a torn scrunchie, nearly yanked out by one of the snake woman currently mocking her from the top of the cliff.

“She can’t even go anywhere, Euryale! Look at her!” A hiss of laughter followed.

“Dear gods, sister. You’re a dense idiot.”

“Why? She’s stuck.”

“No she’s not, you buffoon. She can hear your loud mouth clear as day, and we can’t reach her!”

Annabeth sighed.

“We can offer her a-”

“If you say Weinni Doggi Treat one more time I’m slicing your head off, Stheno.”

Annabeth wished she could do the head slicing instead, but her hands were far to shaky and her vision too unclear.

7 weeks. She’s been on this run for 7 weeks. Her life remains to her as pure mystery, non yieldable to her needs and wants to just simply  _ know.  _ Know who she was before waking up that cold february morning, a wolf at her heels, her only belongings being the locket, blue jeans, a grey jacket, tattered orange shirt with faded writing, and a small knife.

7 weeks ago she was sent on a journey. To where, she didn’t know. All she know was she’d know it when she gets there. Very helpful.

Her first night was spent trying to collect food, when a girl with dark olive green hair cheerfully offered her a ‘Weinni Doggi Treat’, the smashing the bronze plate into Annabeth’s head. When she tried to flee, the olive haired girl was joined by a blue haired girl that had…. Snakes in her hair?

Annabeth stabbed them both, shrieking in shock when they both turned to dust, and fled.

She wish that was the end of the story.

The next week, she was eating at the cafe when the olive hair girl, who’s nametag Annabeth thought had said “Beano” came up to offer ‘Weinni Doggi Treats’. 

Annabeth had tried so many things. She’s dropped bowling balls on them, drowned them, hell she even stole a police car and ran them over (she never returned the car, it was later found burning under an overpass a few dozen miles away).

They just wouldn’t die.

But, much to her own shock, Annabeth couldn’t die either.

Their teeth shattered when she was bitten, their claws painfully peeled back from their flesh, anything they threw at her bent and didn’t leave a bruise.

She was so, so tired. And hungry. And they always found her again. So there she was, stuck on the ledge of a rocky bypass cliff, above hundreds of cars going at breakneck speeds below her. Her only way out is up, to the horrors above, or down to the cars and maybe even her own death.

Euryale, the neon blue viper haired green garbage bag snarled down at Annabeth.

“We’ll just find a way to kill her from here.”

“Lets offer her a Weinni D-”

Euryale lunged at her sister, who squealed and scampered to the side.

Everything was warn down. Stheno’s dress, Euryales patience, Annabeth’s whole soul. Except for the plastic-esque snack treats on aa bronze platter the size of an extra large pizza Annabeth has been crazing for.

The wheels in her brain turned.

“Hey B… Stheno?”

The girls stopped fighting and peaked over the edge of the ground they are standing on. 

“Those Hot dog treats… tell me about them.”

The green haired monster’s eyes lit up.

“At least some one cares! Weinni Doggi Treats are fun for the whole family, packed with 70% of your daily sugar recommendations and wild flavours like honey barbeque and cotton candy, you’ll love them so much!”

Euryale glared down at Annabeth with rage more powerful than she had showed so far. 

“And how many flavours do you have?”

“Oh, so many! I couldn’t fit them all on the platter, but I have Jalapeno, Barbeque, Regular, Cotton Candy, Caviar Surprise, Blue Raspberry, My own blood, Rosemary and Olive Oil, Ketchup Lollipop, and Pancakes!”

“Thats-” Annabeth paused. “I’m sorry, did you say-”

“Blue Raspberry is a very popular flavour.”

Annabeth waited a minute. No one commented on the blood.

“Can I see which one I’d like to try?”

Stheno squealed with delight and got on her knees, carefully lowering the plate with both hands. Behind her curled white tusks of ivory, her mouth was askew in concentration. 

Euryale gasped in outrage. “Stheno no it’s a trap.”

Stheno snapped, and dropped the platter. “What?”

Annabeth couldn’t catch the platter, it flew beyond her and towards the cars.

So she didn’t think.

She jumped.

Annabeth didn’t scream. She thought she would, but the blinding sound of her heartbeat overtook everything as her knuckles found a grip onto the tiny platter and she sailed over whole side of incoming traffic, over to a semi heading north.

“AGH!” she came to a rolling stop, in a plume of black smoke. When the air cleared and her wheezing died down, she looked back out to the rapidly shrinking view of the face she just dove off.

Blue wings sprouted from nowhere.

“Oh fuck.”

The trunk hit a pothole and Annabeth was thrusted off to the side of the road with a cry, hands hitting glass and gravel. Yet no injury.

“Ah, hello dear. It’s time you showed up.”

Annabeth looked up from the ground, shivering.

Sitting on the ground boiled by summer’s heat was a grey haired woman holding a twisted twig staff and covered in thick floral print. She looked no older than 80.

Annabeth reached for her dagger.

The old lady batted no lash.

“I’m a traveller. Much like yourself.”

“Who are you.”

The old lady chuckled. “They call me June. What a wonderful name, a whole month named after me!”

Annabeth decided this lady was heated to delusions.

“Ah yes, the mind of a sweet greek child. My dear, you’re looking for something special. A camp? Hm?”

Annabeth’s ears perked at the sound of ‘camp’.

“How did you-”

“A tunnel just at the median of the road, hidden with the beam of an overpass, lies your journey’s success.”

Annabeth looked over her shoulder. She couldn’t see anything for a second, then two children holding staffs stood side by side, making small talk, dressing in leather armour Annabeth couldn’t recognise.

“I-”

“Yes, you should go to camp. But be warned, your future will burn.”

She forced her eyes away from the kids and back to the elder lady.

“Excuse me?”

“Beyond that tunnel lies a river with a curse, one that can end your life if you touch it’s waters before becoming one of them. But you can turn your back. In the city, a few miles by car, lives an old god ready to step down and make another in his place.  You could live a life of peace, solidarity, untouched forever more by fate.”

The lady’s eye twinkled.

“I will fend your monsters away from you. Or, you can help an old lady to camp.”

Laughter ripped through the air. Annabeth whipped her head back to see the two monster sisters wobbling in the air under fragile wings, lowly making their way towards June and herself.

Annabeth took a split second to decide. She wasn’t going to leave anyone at the mercy of those two terrible snake ladies.

She turned back to June, rose to her feet, lifted the old lady up, and sprinted across traffic.

The two kids quickly took notice. The taller one pulled out an arrow and aimed at her. Annabeth let out a shout to tell them she wasn’t going to do any harm, before realising the kid was aiming above her, at the Gorgon that was swooping for her and June.

_ Swipp! _

The arrow shrieked through the air and sunk straight into Stheno’s forehead. She was yoinked backwards, onto a speeding car. A poof of yellow dust flew everywhere, and Annabeth sneezed. 

She stumbled to safety at the concrete island. It truly looked like this was a banged up construction zone, a bent up ‘Road Work Ahead’ sign glued to the door.

Annabeth’s mind drew a blank as words left her mouth.

“Uh yeah I sure hope it does.”

She caught the attention of the two kids.

“... huh?” The shorter one stepped forward. Her hair peeked out from behind her helmet, shimmering gold in the sunlight. She looked far too young to be on the side of the road, perhaps 13. Her armour didn’t fit, her eyes had a light to them. Something old, but fierce.

“I… I don’t know.”

June clapped her hands.

“Mortal Memes, one of the best inventions of the eon!”

Annabeth didn’t know what a meme was, but judging by June’s delight… she really didn’t want to know.

“Who are you?”

“Good question, small child, I have no clue but-”

The other one squeaked in horror.

“Did that monster just reform?!” His voice was quiet, even for an exclamation. 

He was far taller than the girl in the armour, and towered over Annabeth. His problem, however, seemed the opposite than the girls. His armour was too small, he looked like he could be squeezed to death within a leathery bond. Annabeth’s mind blanked out again, and she was tugged forward as another arrow was set to air.

“Are you from Lupa?” The girl’s sweet, young voice echoed in Annabeth’s head.

“Y… yes, I’m looking for something she told me I would find?”

“Camp. It’s not here, but you’re close… FRANK!”

Annabeth looked over her shoulder at the boy, who had thrown his bow at Euryale, watching her explode once again.

“They won’t die!”

“Welcome to my world!” Annabeth responded to ‘Frank’.

“Frank, I got this, get her to camp.” The girl pulled out a solid piece of…. shadow? Did she have a shadow sword?

“Hazel-”

“Go! And don’t wait up for me.”

Goldilocks - er, sorry, Annabeth just realised her name was Hazel - stormed forwards and past Frank.  He turned around and looked down at Annabeth.

“The..” 

Annabeth shouldered Juno higher.

“She’s coming.”

“... ‘aight, come on.”

And with a grab of her hand, Frank tugged her and descended down the tunnel entrance, into a plunge of pitch black and pure soil smell.

* * *

 

**Author's Note:**

> Please, leave a comment! yell at me for not finishing, compliment me on my work, give theories about endings! kudos and sharing is beloved too!


End file.
